While you might not think of Portland as a particularly volcanic area nowadays (especially compared to other Western states like Wyoming), turn back time about 5 million years, and the story would be very different. In southeast Portland, nestled at the top of a quaint neighborhood, is Mt. Tabor, an extinct volcanic vent and remnant of this volatile time in Oregonian history. Its cinder cone (a steep conical hill of loose pyroclastic fragments) is part of the Boring Lava Field, an extensive network of Plio-Pleistocene era cinder cones and small shield volcanoes ranging from Boring, Oregon to southwest Washington. This park was my destination for my second nature excursion in the city while visiting for the AWP 2019 Conference (go here to read about our other hikes in Portland).

Portland is one of just four cities in the United States to have an extinct volcano within its boundaries, so Mt. Tabor is an interesting destination if you find yourself in the city. The most prominent features of the park are the huge reservoirs, constructed to hold municipal water piped in from the Bull Run River watershed. The day we visited, the weather was absolutely perfect—upper-60s and sunny—and there were many people sunbathing by the reservoirs, which were beautifully framed by cherry blossoms.

Mt. Tabor’s peak is only about 636 feet in elevation, making it a fairly easy climb to get to the top if you choose one of the less-strenuous trails (there are three, ranging from one to three miles). At the top, you’ll be shaded by Portland’s trademark coniferous forest and have a gorgeous view over the reservoirs and downtown Portland. From research, I believe there’s also a good spot to see Mt. Hood from the peak, but we couldn’t find it while we were there. We did, however, find a statue of The Oregonian editor and Scottish Rite Freemason, Harvey W. Scott, sculpted by the same artist (Gutzon Borglum) who sculpted Mt. Rushmore.

Enjoy the views from our hike by clicking on any of the photos below to enlarge them!

I keep trying to find more to say about this hike, about how it rejuvenated me after hours spent sitting in hard-backed chairs, how I don’t think I’d felt as happy since last summer as I did these three days, how there’s something about the reflection of trees in water that makes my blood sing—but then I realized my words would never amount to these:

"Nature" is what we see—
The Hill—the Afternoon—
Squirrel—Eclipse— the Bumble bee—
Nay—Nature is Heaven—
Nature is what we hear—
The Bobolink—the Sea—
Thunder—the Cricket—
Nay—Nature is Harmony—
Nature is what we know—
Yet have no art to say—
So impotent Our Wisdom is
To her Simplicity.
-Emily Dickinson

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